


Slowly Losing Ground

by nerdgirl23



Series: Slowly Losing Ground [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek Reboot, star trek au!zombie apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Post-Apocalypse, Survival, Zombies, idek anymore, probably so more stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirl23/pseuds/nerdgirl23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Au where the Reboot Star Trek crew is spread apart, all trying to survive the zombie apocalypse. Slowly, they begin to join together, forming a survival team unlike any other. But even the best of the crew can't keep up with the life they lead forever...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Jim felt blood on his hands as he ran. He couldn’t tell if it was his own, or if it was from the bloody mass of flesh and muscle and skeleton that was pursuing him at that moment. Thankfully, Jim had managed to snap the thing’s leg as he ran, meaning the creature was slowly losing ground, but that didn’t stop Jim from running as if his life depended on it.  
Which, to be honest, it probably did.  
As the moans from the creature died away into the forest, Jim started to slow down. It wasn’t chasing him anymore, whatever it was. However, as he took in his surroundings, he realized that Spock was no longer nearby. They must have been split up in the mad sprint to get away from that thing.  
Whipping out his phone, he wrote,  
@Spock: Where are you? Are you okay? And waited. A few seconds later, a chirp announced Spock’s reply.  
@Jim: I am currently standing in the forest. I appear to have, for the moment, escaped unharmed. Are you?  
@Spock: I’m fine. probably. Where in the forest? I’m by a huge oak tree stump  
@Jim: I believe I passed by the stump you speak of while I was on my way down.  
Jim was about to reply when he heard a sharp crackling in the forest nearby, and he jumped up, ready to run. Only when he could see the familiar face of his friend Spock did Jim relax again, and sit back down.  
“Good to see you made it out,” Jim smiled weakly. The corners of Spock’s mouth turned up slightly, but he reclaimed his calm, collected demeanor within seconds.  
“I believe you hindered the creature by breaking one of its legs.” Spock replied.  
“Do you have any idea what the hell that thing was?” Jim asked, although he was fairly sure he could guess what it was.  
“It had similarities to those who were infected during the experiments last week.” Spock said, confirming Jim’s belief.  
“So we’ve got zombies now. Great.” Jim sighed, running his hands through his hair, then stopped as he remembered the bloody stains on them. He stood up for a moment, surveying the area around, then sighed and said, “Come on, we’d better do what we can to get away from here, I have no doubt half the school’s infected by now, who knows how the rest of the world is doing.”  
“Where will we set out for?” Spock asked as they started walking.  
“Wherever the zombies aren’t.”

****One Year Later****

“There is only just enough left in the bottle for your wound.” Spock  
said, handing Jim the last bottle of disinfectant. Jim looked at it, then up at Spock.  
“That’s it after this?”  
“It appears that way.”  
“Maybe I can salvage some first aid kits from that Walmart nearby,” Jim said, talking out loud. After a pause, rethinking what he just said, he backpedaled, saying, “Well…………the zombies like to hang out in the parking lot, and it’s a real pain to get in there and they probably won’t even have a first aid kit in there. I bet someone else beat us to it. So that nixes that plan.”  
Jim sighed, applying the disinfectant to his calf, which sported a deep cut which looked like it had gone into the muscle a bit. Jim wasn’t sure through all the red, but it looked like he could see a bit of bone in there, too. It hurt like hell, but Jim wasn’t one to let it show.  
Suddenly, Jim and Spock stopped, and listened to the forest. They could hear leaves crackling and the occasional twig breaking, and recognized that whatever it was was moving toward them. Jim reached for his gun and moved to the door, wincing each time he placed weight on his injured leg. Likewise, Spock moved to the window, his gun at the ready. Jim counted the footsteps as they neared the house, and as he heard the footsteps pause for a moment in front of the house, Jim tensed up, and then flung the door open, his gun pointed directly at the forehead of a man only a bit older than him.  
He wasn’t infected.  
That’s a good sign.  
But survivors could be ruthless too; especially if they needed supplies and knew someone else had them. This was not a world for the weak.  
The man had instinctively pulled out his own gun, too, but upon seeing the face of a survivor, and not that of a zombie, he cautiously lowered the gun, although his eyes were still fixed on Jim’s.  
“Look, kid, I’m not aiming to cause any kinda trouble.” the man said. “I’m dehydrated, that’s all. I need a cup of water.”  
“How do I know you aren’t gonna pull a fast one and shoot me in the back of the head when I turn around?” Jim asked, his finger still resting calmly on the trigger.  
“Dammit man, I’m a doctor not a politician!” The man sighed, exasperated. “I don’t make a living off of lying. Look, one cup of water and I’ll be out of your hair.”  
Jim’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re a doctor?”  
“Damn right I am. A pretty good one too, I reckon.” Although the sentence itself screamed arrogance, there wasn’t a hint of it in the man’s voice. Jim looked down at his leg, and knew he was going to need help. It was beyond a bit of disinfectant.  
“If we gave you water,” Jim said, “and that’s a pretty big if, would you be able to check something out for me?”  
“Wha-” the man’s eyes flickered down to Jim’s leg, and he breathed deeply. “That’s pretty bad, kid.”  
“Tell me about it.” Jim said. “Think you’d be able to fix it up for a cup of water?”  
The man studied Jim, clearly weighing the odds of this 20-some year old kid stabbing him in the back. Apparently, he decided the odds weren’t too bad, because he nodded once, and put his gun in his back pocket. Jim returned his to the shelf by the door, and held it open for the man as he entered the house.  
“Spock this is…?” Jim started, before turning curiously to the man.  
“McCoy. Leonard McCoy,” he said.  
“Right, McCoy, this is my friend Spock. And I’m Jim. Jim Kirk.”  
Spock nodded once in greeting to the newcomer, then turned to Jim.  
“I will be upstairs if you need me, Jim. I am going to check the radio signals.”  
“I’ll call if I need anything.” Jim nodded, and Spock left the room. McCoy looked after him, a look of disgruntled bemusement and confusion on his face, and he asked, “Is he always that freaky?”  
“Freaky meaning formal and uptight? Yeah, pretty much. He’s an oddball. We met at university.” Jim started to limp his way toward the kitchen, but McCoy stopped him.  
“Hold it kid, you need to sit down. That leg’ll get ten times worse if you use it too much.”  
“But you need your water,” Jim said, through laboured breathing, as it was really a lot more painful to walk on now that he was fully paying attention to it.  
“I’ll get it, just tell me where the water is.” McCoy said, and he walked into the kitchen. With anyone else, Jim should have been worried that they would raid the kitchen and make off with the food, or water, or both. But this guy was different. There was an air of genuine honesty about Leonard McCoy that Jim couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was something about the way he carried himself, or maybe it was those eyes, perfectly hazel, and the compassion hidden behind them, however thick the outer shell was. Or the change that had occurred in McCoy’s voice when he saw the severity of Jim’s leg wound.  
Regardless, he surprised himself with the realization that he trusted this man already, after knowing him for less than two minutes.  
“The water’s in a bucket in the cabinet to the right of the sink.” Jim called as he sat down, on the couch. There was some brief scuffling, a cabinet opened, and McCoy let out a quiet exclamation.  
“Hell, I haven’t seen clean water in two days,” Jim heard McCoy whisper to himself, and after a second or two, McCoy stopped making any noises except for quiet gulping.  
After a few seconds, McCoy came back out, looking thirsty as ever, but at least he was smiling a bit.  
“Alright, now what the hell did you do to yourself, kid?” McCoy asked, kneeling down and opening up his satchel on the ground beside him.  
“I fell.” Jim said quietly. McCoy looked up at him firmly.  
“Dammit kid, you don’t have to lie to me. You’d have to have taken quite a tumble in order to get this kind of cut. Frankly, if you’d fallen how and where you would have needed to in order to get this cut, you would be dead. The only way this cut could come from nature is rocks, and they would have bashed your head in too, if you had fallen on them,” McCoy shook his head as he searched through his bag, “So what actually happened?” Jim didn’t say anything, but winced slightly as a cleaning cloth gently made its way around the wound. When he didn't reply, McCoy stopped cleaning the wound to lock eyes with Jim for a second. “Look, for the time being, I’m your doctor. I need to know how this happened in order for me to help you best.” McCoy’s voice was stern, but Jim could see that his eyes were soft as he said it. After a few seconds, Jim sighed.  
“It’s a stupid reason, really.”  
“I don’t care.”  
“I-I was out checking the traps, and there’s this one that literally hasn’t been touched all year. I thought if the animals smelled blood, they might be more drawn to it. I only meant to nick myself-enough to get a few drops out, but a zom snuck up behind me and took me by surprise… and the knife went in a little deeper than it was supposed to.” Jim looked at the floor. It was honestly a really dumb reason, and he knew he should have been smarter. Another mistake like that and he’d hit the dust for sure.  
Jim could feel McCoy’s watchful eye on him, but he refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the swirls in the grain of the wooden floor beneath them.  
After a pause, McCoy nodded, then set back to work on the leg.  
“We all make mistakes, kid. God knows I’ve made a few too many mistakes in my time.” Now it was Jim who studied McCoy, and McCoy who couldn’t bring himself to look up.  
“This is pretty deep. I might need…” McCoy trailed off.  
“Need what?”  
“Don’t worry about it.” Jim could see McCoy’s brain at work, processing something.  
Jim shook his head. “Tell me.”  
McCoy sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He met Jim’s eyes, and waited for a second before asking, “How would you feel if I told you I might have to do stitches?”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au where the Reboot Star Trek crew is spread apart, all trying to survive the zombie apocalypse. Slowly, they begin to join together, forming a survival team unlike any other. But even the best of the crew can't keep up with the life they lead forever...

The party of eight made their way across the deserted plains, the dry grass cracking under their feet. They’d been traveling for over two weeks, but they hadn’t found anywhere to settle down yet. The leader, Tomas, had told them there was shelter nearby, but frankly none of them knew what to believe anymore. 

At the back of the pack was 17 year-old Pavel Andreievich Chekov. He was the newest addition to the group, having only traveled with them for five days. His curly hair was plastered to his forehead by the glaring sun’s heat, and small beads of sweat decorated his face like miniature gems. He hummed a lighthearted song from his mother country, Russia, but even as he did so, his head was full of dark thoughts.  
“Hold on,” Tomas said, halting the group. He squinted, trying to make out a blurry figure to their right. But when the figure let out an ear-piercing screech, most likely heard for miles around, there was no mistaking what it was. Nothing made a noise like the infected did.  
“Run!” Tomas yelled, and in a matter of seconds, the group was sprinting with him. 

The screech continued, and soon another joined in, and another, and another, and the air was filled with the suffocating presence of the infected’s screams. It looked like there were at least six of them coming that way, maybe more. A few shots were fired in that direction, but none of them hit their marks.   
“They’re gaining!” a man yelled, and it was true. Chekov could make out their faces now, great gaping mouths and hollow eyes, and skinless cheeks and falling out hair.   
“We need to buy more time!” Tomas yelled, “Give ‘em the kid!”  
“No! No, no, no! Ve can outrun zem!” Chekov protested in vain, but it was too late, for even as he said that, the man closest to him stuck his arm out and caused Chekov to lose his balance, meeting the ground in a matter of seconds. He sprung to his feet quickly, but the group was already too far ahead. 

Chekov started sprinting, but he was already tired from running before, and he could hear the grass crinkling under the feet of the infected behind him. He pulled out his shotgun, and looked behind him and to his left, where the closest zombie was. Although he had never been a good aim with a gun, the zombie was close enough that even he could hit it, and the zombie’s forehead burst open.  
One down, four to go.  
But even as he thought that, he knew that was an impossible number. He might get one more to go down, if he was lucky, but four? Forget it. He was a running carcass.  
He heard a shot ring out, whizzing by Chekov’s ear, and another zombie fell, but not by his own gun. Was Tomas shooting at him, trying to give the zombies what they want? Chekov didn’t have time to wonder any more, feeling the hot breath of a zombie behind him, and he shot, not daring to look behind him. The breath left his neck, and he heard the dull thump of the zombie’s body falling to the ground.  
Two more dead, two more still chasing.   
Chekov’s legs burned, his head pounded, and his breath could only come out in ragged, forced exhales, followed by equally stuttering inhales. He knew he couldn’t go much longer, and he chanced a glance behind.  
The two infected were a good 20 meters away, but they were gaining ground. As Chekov turned back to the front and pushed his legs to run faster, he thought he heard a man’s voice call, “DUCK!”  
Chekov considered the options: if he ducked and nothing happened, the zombies would catch up and kill him almost instantly, if he kept running and ignored the command, the zombies would catch up and kill him almost instantly anyway. Chekov didn’t really have much to lose.  
He dropped to the ground.  
Two gunshots rang out, one after the other. One of the infected fell immediately, but the other staggered for a second or two, landing in front of Chekov’s feet, hand outstretched toward the Russian. 

Chekov looked up, and saw a young man running toward him.   
“You okay, man?” the stranger asked, helping Chekov to his feet. Chekov practically shook with anger as he started to fully realize what his group had just tried to do to him. After letting out a long strand of fluent Russian swears, mostly referring to the men’s interests in eating feces and wanting to screw other people’s mothers, he inhaled deeply and muttered “Poshoyol ty’, Tomas,” under his breath. Then he turned to the stranger and offered an apologetic smile.  
“I am wery sorry about zat outburst, sir. Zank you for helping me.”  
“Don’t mention it. Those guys were cowards. Worse, they were clever cowards. Throw you under the bus the minute you aren’t important to them anymore. Some honour code they have.”  
“I do not even zink ze know vat honour is.” Chekov smiled. “Zank you again. My name is Chekov. Who are you?”  
“The name’s Sulu. Where’re you headed?”  
“Nowhere now. I suppose I vill have to find a new group to travel with. I could not make it out here on my own. But I have skills zat could be useful to a lot of people, but no one vill ever give me ze chance! Just because I am sewenteen years old does not mean I can’t help-”  
“Wait, you’re seventeen?” Sulu asked abruptly.  
“Vell, yes. But zat does not mean I am useless!”  
“Like hell it does! If you’ve survived out here this whole time, at the age of seventeen, that alone should be a sign you’ve got something to offer.”  
“I can fix up any technology given to me. It does not matter if it is minimal damage, or if ze entire zing is busted, if ze parts are awalible, I can fix it up.” Chekov said proudly. Sulu looked at him curiously.  
“You can fix anything?”  
“Absolutely.”  
“You said something about wanting to travel with a group, right?”   
“Yes…”  
“Is a group of two okay with you? I’ve never traveled with anyone before, but that skill of yours could really come in handy, and you’re better conversation than the infected.”  
Chekov grinned, and nodded. “A group of two vould be just fine vith me.” 

********

It had been just over a week since McCoy had first showed up at Jim and Spock’s, and he still hadn’t left.

None of them had planned for him to stay. They all assumed he would leave after an hour or so; even McCoy himself thought it would just be a brief meeting. He had numbed the area around the wound as best he could, and stitched up Jim’s leg, and although it was incredibly painful, it was over in about ten minutes, tops. When Jim had recovered, and asked McCoy if he wanted something to eat before he left, how could McCoy say no? And when they sat down, and started talking, and began swapping stories of the days before the infected, why would McCoy even think about what time it was? And when they realized it was getting dark outside, and Jim asked McCoy where he was staying, how could McCoy lie and say that he knew?  
And Jim couldn’t let him go out into the forest, at night, with no shelter to head for.  
The second day, McCoy was proven to be a pretty decent cook and not a bad shot with a gun, as that night was the best squirrel stew they’d ever eaten. McCoy offered to get out of their hair that night, but it was a firm “No” from Jim, and from that day on, McCoy was there to stay. The three of them hadn’t mentioned it to one another, but it was mutually understood that McCoy would be staying indefinitely. 

And now McCoy had a nickname.  
Bones.

It came about while McCoy was trying to prepare a bird Jim had shot down earlier that day.  
“Oh, you’re no good!” Jim heard McCoy sigh, exasperated, “You’re nothing but a bag of bones! A bag of bones caught by a bigger bag of bones.”  
“I’m not a bag of bones!”  
“You are all bones.”  
“You’re all bones” Jim retorted childishly.  
“Oh very mature, Jim. So original.” McCoy rolled his eyes and elbowed Jim out of the way so he could get to the window.   
“Bones.” Jim said, and he started to smile.   
“I’m not bones.”  
“Yes you are.”  
“Jim…” McCoy said warningly, but it was too late.  
“You’re Bones! That’s what you are, that’s what I’ll call you!”  
“That doesn’t even make sense, kid-”  
“I DON’T CARE I’m going to call you Bones until the day I die!” Jim grinned. “I gave Spock the nickname Spocko so you can’t complain too much. Besides, I’ve wanted a nickname for you this whole time, cause McCoy is too formal but so is Leonard and I was getting really frustrated that I couldn’t find a suitable name. And now I have.”  
“You’re really gonna do this, kid?”  
“You better believe it!” Jim beamed, clapping McCoy on the back and heading out of the kitchen, only pausing to stick his head back in and say, “See you at dinner, Bones!”  
“You’re a real nuisance sometimes, you know that?” McCoy called after him, but Jim merely smiled broader and sauntered upstairs. 

 

“How’d the cornucopia looking, Spock?” Jim asked, striding over to the window to look out to the forest with Spock, who turned to face him.  
“It is my personal opinion that we should be able to break into Walmart as soon as your leg has healed.” Jim looked down at the medical thread holding his leg together, and winced slightly at the memory of the pain.  
“So a couple of days. Sounds good, we’re running low on pretty much everything. We might need to move again if we can’t find anything in that Walmart. Especially now that we have three people instead of two.”  
“So the doctor is staying?”  
“Of course he’s staying! Spock, he’s a great guy who can cook food and patch us up if we need medical attention.”  
“I am aware of the practical assets Dr. McCoy has. I was merely curious, as I had heard no definitive answer on the matter.”  
Jim sighed, “Look, I know you and Bones don’t get along-”  
“Bones?”  
“That’s what I’m calling him now. It’s a nickname of sorts. Like how I call you Spocko when I’m feeling in a good mood.”  
“Indeed.” Spock did not look amused. “As you stated, it is true that the doctor and I share a strained relationship at best. However I am not against him joining with us, as he is a logical addition that would be most unwise to turn away from.”  
“Spock, you are one of the most ridiculously logical people I have ever met.” Smiled Jim.  
“Every problem can be solved with logic. With logic, there is an answer to everything.” Spock replied simply. Jim shook his head, still smiling.  
“Get down here you two, before the food goes cold!” McCoy yelled up the stairs, and Jim grinned widely.  
“Coming, Bones!” he called down.  
Dammit Jim, get your ass down here this instant!”   
Jim threw a mischievous look at Spock, then took the stairs down, three at a time, and was followed by Spock, who of course took the steps one at a time like anyone else would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated!!!! Thank you!


	3. Chapter Three

Jim and Bones sat outside on the porch, quietly watching the stars overhead and listening intently to every crackle of the leaves.   
“Bones,” Jim asked quietly, “have you been traveling on your own this whole time? I mean, since the infected started taking over?”  
McCoy sighed deeply. The crisp night air seemed to grow even colder. Jim looked up at McCoy, whose face was in his hands, clearly thinking carefully about Jim’s question.   
“No,” he exhaled, “not quite.”  
“Who were you with?” Jim’s voice was tentative, but McCoy seemed to pull himself together, for he met Jim’s eyes when he replied.  
“My wife and daughter.” McCoy swallowed. Jim’s eyes widened slightly, and he slid closer to McCoy to put an arm around him.

********

Two months earlier, a gunshot rang out. A gentle thud as a body hit the ground, and McCoy ran over, inspecting it.  
“We should get some good meat off this,” he said appreciatively, studying the deer’s body. Jocelyn came over, smiling. “I’m not a bad shot after all, am I?”  
“Lucky shot.” Bones said grudgingly, although he smiled a bit. He hoisted the deer over one shoulder, putting his other arm around Jocelyn as they walked back toward the cabin. She laughed pleasantly, gently brushing up against his side as they walked.   
McCoy smiled. He and Jocelyn’s marriage wasn’t always good, but they had been working on it, and maybe it was just his imagination, but it seemed like it was getting better. Every day she laughed a little bit more, each day he smiled a little wider, and Joanna could obviously notice a difference. She had opened up to them both a few weeks ago and told them how much she hated their arguing, and in response, they had talked about how to make it better, and since then they had seen drastic improvements in her behavior and general attitude. Perhaps things were finally looking up.

Joanna came out of the apartment building they had claimed, and waved at them. Bones took his hand off Jocelyn’s shoulder to wave back, smiling. His seven year old daughter ran toward him, causing McCoy to put down the deer carcass in order to kneel down to give his daughter a huge bear hug. She locked her fingers behind his neck, squeezing slightly, and he closed his eyes, taking her into his arms.

In that moment, everything was wonderful.

The next second, McCoy’s world broke down. 

A strangled scream broke from Jocelyn’s throat, followed closely by a shriek from Joanna. McCoy whirled around, and fumbled for his gun. The infected jumped Jocelyn, taking her to the ground, and even as McCoy shot, he could hear the sickening sound of the infected’s teeth breaking the skin of his wife’s shoulder.   
Both woman and zombie fell to the ground, one from the gun, one from the bite. Joanna’s scream still going, McCoy rushed to his wife’s side. She coughed feebly, causing a spurt of blood to leave her neck, but managed a small smile.   
“Len,” she said weakly. McCoy held her hand, his eyes misting up.   
“No, Joce, I can fix-”  
“You know you can’t.” Jocelyn feebly shook her head. “I’m leaving. I’ll be gone within a minute or two.”  
“Mommy,” Joanna came up behind her father, her tiny hand slipping between her parents’, “You’re going to be better, right? You have to be!”  
“Honey, remember what happened to Uncle Todd?”  
Joanna nodded solemnly. “You said he wasn’t Uncle Todd anymore. You said his head wasn’t in his body.”   
“Well, that’s what’s going to happen to me.” Jocelyn’s voice was weaker than before, and McCoy had to strain to make out her words. She still managed a smile, and met her daughters eyes.   
“Will I get to talk to you?”  
“I don’t think so honey. Not for a long while, at least. But I’ll watch over you, okay sweetie? And so’ll Daddy. He’ll stay with you, no matter what.” Her eyes turned on McCoy, speaking a thousand words in a look. I’m sorry our relationship wasn’t what it could be. I know it would have become something amazing. I wish I could have grown old with you. Look after our baby girl for me. Keep her safe. Look after yourself. I love you.   
“I love you, Joanna.” She said quietly. Joanna made a sound like a hurt puppy, and leaned against McCoy.   
But even as Jocelyn lay dying, there was no time to mourn. They only had a few precious seconds before the turn.  
“Baby girl, we have to hurry.” McCoy said, picking up his daughter and gently wiping away a tear on Joanna’s face, ignoring the ones on his own. Without a glance back at his dying wife, he turned, and ran to the apartment, grabbing everything he could that was essential, then took his daughters hand and snuck a look around the corner. Jocelyn- no, she wasn’t Jocelyn anymore, she was an infected- was up now, wandering the border between the forest and the apartment building. Joanna made a small noise in the back of her throat, and gave a small wave to the being that used to be her mom. McCoy’ blinked back tears a few times, then turned an lead Joanna to the back door, leaving the life he had shared with his wife. 

A week and two days after Jocelyn’s departure, they had found a new home. It wasn’t an actual home, more as it was a makeshift shelter someone else had abandoned, but it served its purpose.  
McCoy roasted the small fish he had caught the other day, turning it slowly. Joanna sat just outside the entrance, her arms pulled around her knees protectively.   
“Jo?” McCoy asked, “Honey, are you okay?”  
She mumbled something incoherently.  
“What’d you say?” McCoy cocked his head, and Joanna spoke up, her voice strong and defiant.   
“You just left her.”  
“Honey,”  
“No, you just left her! Mommy was right there, and we just left her.”  
“Joanna, she wasn’t Mommy anymore, you know that.”  
“How do we know? Maybe there was part of her left.” Joanna sniffed, and McCoy realized his daughter was crying. Forgetting the fish, he moved to the entrance.  
“I know because I’ve seen this happen to other people before.” He said.  
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” Joanna said, putting her head on her knees. McCoy reached out to comfort her, but she shied away from him, glaring up.   
“We just left. We just left her. Mommy was still there, it was still her, and we left! You left!” Joanna’s voice had risen in pitch, and her voice caught before she continued, “You and Mommy always argued before. I thought you were better now, but you didn’t even wait to say goodbye! You left Mommy to die alone! I hate you!” She screamed the last sentence, then ran from the shelter.   
McCoy was stunned. For a second, he just sat with his head in his hands, processing what his Joanna, his baby girl, and just said to him. Then, He stood up heavily, and set off to find her again.   
After a few minutes of walking, he came upon a wide, treeless patch, and stood for a moment, wondering which way she would have gone. However he didn’t have to wonder for very long: his stomach dropped sickeningly at the sound of an all to familiar scream met his ears. He sprinted in the direction of the scream, yelling for Joanna, yelling for her to hold on, that he was coming to her, that he would be there, that he would protect her. The scream stopped abruptly, causing McCoy to sprint even faster, tears blurring his vision as he ran. 

He saw a body on the ground, and knelt by it, Joanna’s quiet coughing almost unnoticeable to anyone but her father.   
“Hey baby girl,” he said, tears streaking down his cheeks and dropping on her bloody chest. She winced slightly as he cradled her, but managed to get a few words out.  
“Daddy I didn’t mean it.” She said, “I don’t hate you. I love you a lot, you’re the best daddy I could ever have.”  
“And you’re the best daughter a daddy could ever have. I love you too sweetie. I love you more than you could ever know.” McCoy held her tighter, as if his grip would keep his daughter from leaving him.  
“Daddy?”  
“Yeah, Jo?”  
But she didn’t reply, her voice too weak to continue. He kissed her, and she smiled slightly still trying to form words. McCoy smiled back at her, determined to give his Jo a good last sight.  
And Jo’s eyes went dark, her last smile still frozen on her face.

McCoy didn’t consciously get up, but somehow he found he had stood up and backed up from Joanna’s body, unable to leave but fully aware of the dangers he was in.  
Joanna’s body convulsed, and her head flung upwards, followed by the rest of her. Her skin had gone grey, and her balance was off, leaning slightly to the left as she stood. McCoy took a halting step back, but he knew she would hear, and sure enough, the infected Joanna turned toward him. Hearing another crackle to her right, McCoy turned and saw another infected staggering their way, and he turned and ran back through the forest. The zombies took up chase, and they were a lot closer than McCoy was comfortable with. He swore once or twice he could feel their fingers brush his back as he ran, and even as he wove through the trees, he knew he could outrun them forever. Pulling out his gun, he shot four times behind him as he ran, and heard one of the infected drop behind him, although which one was anyone’s guess. He shot again, and the other one fell, too.  
He slowed, and then stopped running, panting slightly, then swore under his breath and ran back. The two infected were sprawled out, but the smallest one immediately caught his attention. She was the closest one to him, she must have been the one he shot last. She had landed funny, her shoulder dislocated and her knees twisted at odd angles. A bloody hole bored into her forehead showed him where he had done the damage. McCoy fell down on the forest floor next to her, his baby girl, and he held her against his chest, sobbing and repeating “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to, please Joanna, forgive me,” over and over again until his voice had gone hoarse. 

********

Jim’s arm gently rubbed McCoy’s as the older man began to cry, just as he had in the forest with his wife, and again with his daughter. Jim just held him, let him cry, softly comforting him with his very presence. McCoy’s head rested on Jim’s shoulder as his breathing regulated once again.  
“She was the sweetest thing.” McCoy said. “You can’t judge her based on that last day. She really was the sweetest angel the world has ever seen. Wise beyond her years, and independent, certainly. She wouldn’t take crap from anyone. But she was a sweet thing.”  
“She was.” Jim nodded.   
“She would have liked you.” McCoy swallowed, “You would have been perfect with her.”  
“I think I would have loved her.” Jim’s hand gently rested on McCoy’s shoulder. “She sounds like she was an amazing girl.”  
“She really was.” McCoy said. “So was Joce. We had our differences, but in the end she was a good woman. When I lost them, my world was over. I wandered around for a month, just surviving, not even sure if I wanted to do that anymore. It wasn’t until I found you and Spock that I had human interaction again.”  
“I’m glad you’re here, Bones,” said Jim, a gentle smile on his face. “This place wouldn’t be the same without you.”  
“Jim,” Bones sat up to look Jim in the eyes. “promise me you won’t tell Spock.”   
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”  
That night, McCoy had his nightmare again, watching Joanna and Jocelyn slowly advancing on him, ready to infect him, but this time, there was a calm voice reminding him that it wasn’t real, it was just a dream, that Jim was there, and Jim would always be there with his Bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback is appreciated!!! Thank you so much for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated!!!! Thank you!


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